


The Wolf and the Rose

by SilverFountains



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Boys Kissing, Canon Gay Character, First Time, Gay Sex, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Robb Lives, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 23:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: When in order to revenge his beloved Renly Loras pledges his sword to Lord Robb Stark, the self-proclaimed King in the North, he had not foreseen that the handsome young lord would be interested in more than his prowess as a knight.





	The Wolf and the Rose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delorita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/gifts).



> Prequel is a mix of ASOIAF and GoT with Robb married to Jeyne Westerling, but she was murdered at the Red Wedding.

"You and Lord Renly ..."

Loras scowls at the young commander and self proclaimed king sat behind his desk in his tent pavilion. They have a common enemy in the Lannisters and for that reason and that reason alone he had pledged his sword to Lord Robb Stark. But his loyalty is superficial and if this brat from the North dares say a foul word about his lost love he will not hesitate to show him his wrath.  

" _King_ Renly," he says sharply. "What about it?" It's all he can do not to fly at the man in anticipation of his mockery and disdain. They had spoken already about strategy and Loras’ place in Lord Stark’s ranks and Loras had expected that to be all. Now though, as the other had stopped him in his tracks, just as he was about to bid him a goodnight, he begins to wonder why he had come here.

Robb gives the handsome knight a guarded look. Renly's claim to the throne had been preposterous even if out of the two brothers he himself would have favoured him as Robert's successor. It had surprised no one when Lord Stannis had murdered his own brother over his false claim. However, he will not quarrel with Ser Loras over titles. Not tonight.

"Word was that you two were ... close," he says carefully, seeing the knight's infamous temper burn close to the surface and feeling Grey Wind tense at his side. His wolf had greeted the Knight of Flowers with the suspicion he granted every visitor, but the young knight had shown surprisingly little fear when faced with the dire wolf. It was only his wolf’s approval, when he had sniffed Loras’ hand and then given him an appreciative lick before settling back at Robb’s side, that had given the young lord the confidence to ask his question.

"He was my Liege Lord and my brother by marriage," Loras answers curtly, wondering at the point of this questioning. _Will he reject my pledge if he knew the truth?_ Loras knows little about the ways of the houses in the North and how they judge relationships like his. Still, only a fool would reject one of the finest swordsmen in Westeros to side with him on the basis of whom he chooses to bed with.

Robb nods solemnly, having expected a response like that. "I am sorry for your loss, Ser Loras."

The Knight of Flowers softens his defence a little at that. "And I for yours, Lord Robb," he answers genuinely, knowing that the other man had lost more than him.

"We have both lost much of what we held dear," Robb says grimly. "Of whom we loved..."

Loras looks at the young lord with a mix of pitty and distrust. _Is he trying to trick me into saying more?_   Once more he questions why they are having this conversation when they are all but strangers. "As you say, my lord," he answers politely. "Did you wish to talk to me about anything else?" he tries to push the conversation in another less personal direction or make his excuses.

For a moment there is silence as Robb stares seemingly absentmindedly into the flame of the brazier.

"My lord?" Loras pushes impatiently.

"I've wondered for a long time what it is like..." Robb finally says, his eyes still turned away.

Loras blinks. "What what is like?" he feels forced to ask when the other does not elaborate. He is way too wary for riddles after his long journey.

"To be ... be with ... a man," Robb says so quietly it is barely a whisper.

Loras feels his temper flare hot at that. Who does this pretentious lord from the north think he is, some whore for his summons?! Some curiosity to quench his wicked fetish? But just as he's about to say words that he may come to regret, his anger freezes on his tongue when he looks into the young man's eyes, betraying his honesty as does the burn in his cheeks.

He hesitates and takes a tentative step forward looking closely at the other man, stopping when the wolf growls softly in warning. "You?" he asks incredulously. "But... you were betrothed!"

Robb looks at the knight with a sad kind of smile. “As was Lord Renly to your sister, the lady Margaery Tyrell, I believe.” Loras swallows hard at that, feeling his heartache coil in his stomach like a serpent. “And I did love her,” Robb continues as he slowly gets to his feet. “I loved her enough to invoke Waldor Frey’s wrath and paid dearly for it,” he sighs, swallowing his own grief as he recalls that night of horrors in which his beloved wife was butchered before his eyes by the treacherous lord of the Twins. He feels a single tear well in the corner of his eye but does not bother to wipe it away. “And is it not possible that a man may love a woman and desire a man as well?” he asks thickly, standing awkwardly by his desk.  

Loras does not know how to respond. He had only known Lord Robb for a couple of days since his arrival at camp and whilst the young commander, a year his junior, had appeared kind and fair to his men and handsome for sure, it was the last he had expected to be summoned to his tent this evening to discuss love and heartbreak. “I … do not know,” he eventually answers honestly, not wanting to say more or less. “You … do?” he asks though, completely taken aback by the frank semi-admission.

“I … think so,” Robb bites his lip. He does not know himself what possessed him to out himself to this stranger like this. Other than that Ser Loras’ relationship with Lord Renly had been a poorly guarded secret and when he had heard that the bereaved knight had come to pledge himself to his cause an odd excitement that had nothing to do with warfare had taken hold of him. “I mean I have never … And I’ve never spoken to anyone …” Suddenly he loses his nerve. He had led thousands of men to war, had ordered around men - and indeed women - thrice his age; seasoned warriors who had sought to undermine and even threatened to kill him. And yet discussing this matter of the heart, this secret that he had carried with him for so long and so deeply buried, feels like a greater battle than any of the ones had had fought on the field. He forces himself to raise his eyes again at the handsome knight from Highgarden. “How did you … How did Renly know …?”

Loras feels an odd sense of endearment towards the lord commander who is now lost for words and who suddenly looks as young and unsure as he is. “We …” he still hesitates, having never openly spoken with anyone but his sister about what he and Renly had truly shared, even if many had guessed at it over the years. “We just knew,” he says softly.

As he so admits to his love for Renly in front of the other Loras feels his fragile heart shatter into what feels like a million fragments. From the moment he had learnt of his beloved’s fate rage and revenge had been his driving force. It was all he could do not to collapse under the weight of his sorrow when he could not share his grief openly. Avenging his liege lord and his sister’s husband was honorable and understandable and even expected of him. Showing the true pain that lay in his heart was not possible. Now though he feels like this young lord has ripped the bandages off his heart and has him bleeding out over the thick carpet rugs that had been laid over the uneven ground. “I … By your leave …” he makes to turn around as he fights back his tears.

“No wait!” Seeing the famous champion of the tourney break in front of him makes Robb finally move his feet and he grabs hold of Loras, unsure whether the other will allow him this gesture of comfort or rather knock him out.

“You loved him,” he whispers in Loras’ ear the words that are stuck in the other man’s throat.

Three words that carry more power than any sword he had ever parried and Loras knows he is bested when he sinks into the unexpected embrace and pours his grief out in stifled sobs.

Robb holds him tight, soothing him as his mother used to sooth him when he was a child and had hurt himself. He lets the other lean on him, hold on to him, as he carefully strokes his fingers through the thick locks that fall across Loras’ shoulders.  

“Yes,” Loras manages to eventually say between his hot tears. “I loved him.” He pulls back a little and angrily wipes them from his face, feeling awkward and embarrassed now and resentful that Robb had made him a fool.

But Robb holds him still. He does not laugh at him. He does not push him away. He does not ask or speak, but just waits patiently. He too had wept his tears at the loss of his wife and his mother. He had wept behind closed doors and in private tents when he had heard of his father’s murder. His tears could have filled barrels when he allowed them to flow after learning that Arya was missing and his brothers both killed. And it had been purging. No it did not bring any of his loved ones back, but it allowed him to feel his emotions rather than turn them into blind hatred. It allowed him to focus and ultimately to carry on leading his men in this gruesome task. And he needs his men to be focused, all of them. “You must grieve him,” he eventually says kindly. “I cannot have your mind clouded by it when you command my troops. If not in front of them,” he nods towards the invisible camp beyond, “then do so in front of me. I will not judge you for it.”

Loras stares at the younger man for a moment. He feels vulnerable, but he realises that the other too had shown him vulnerability. And he appreciates both the offer and the order. “Thank you,” he nods slowly, trying to pull himself together. He feels like a tonne of weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he finds himself smiling awkwardly at his new liege lord.  

Robb smiles back, feeling just as unsure and awkward and still wondering if he is making a big mistake or whether it is inappropriate to follow on such from this moment, but somehow Loras’ outpouring has made him even more handsome. The hardness in his eyes and in his jaw has softened a little. He looks less the fierce swordsman and more another young highborn who suffered greatly in this game of thrones. And so he reaches out carefully, stroking the other man’s cheek as if to rub away another tear.  

Loras sighs at the gentle touch. He feels so many emotions battle inside himself and part of him feels like it is too soon. But Renly is gone. What they had can never be replaced,  but neither can he ever bring him back. And so he allows the touch. Craves it. And he leans himself forward a little towards the slightly shorter man, inviting him.

Their kiss is clumsy and awkward at first. Both fighting equal measures of wanting to and at the same time feeling unsure whether they should. But as Robb closes his eyes and dares to lean in closer, answering with building confirmation that this is what he wants, Loras puts his arms around him and deepens the kiss.  

As much as Loras had allowed Robb to give his grief an outlet, Robb is happy to let the other lead him to express his desire. He has dreamt about this so many times and Loras is making his reality all the more exciting. Already their initial attempts at restraint are lost when Loras opens his mouth a little and lets his tongue curl around Robb’s.  

 _Different_ , Loras thinks. Robb feels, tastes, smells different and yet it’s nice and arousing and somehow both familiar and unfamiliar all at once.  

“I loved that,” Robb pants when they briefly break apart. His lips are plump and hot from their bruising battle. His cheeks as red as the Knight of Flower’s.

“Me too,” Loras grins now. He strokes through Robb’s hair, curly like his own, but darker and shorter. His other hand moves down onto a hip and he pulls Robb closer again. “Do you … want to…?” He is unsure whether that is too fast or too frank but he can see and feel the need in the other man.

Robb almost gasps when he is pulled against Loras, feeling his arousal through his breeches. “Yes,” he croaks. For a moment he feels juvenile and like a virgin again, but he reminds himself that he is neither and says more surely, putting on the voice he had trained to command legions, “Yes, I want _you.”_

He takes Loras’ hand and leads him to the compartment in his large pavillion where his bed has been put. “Stay there,” he grins as he quickly rushes back to the entrance of his tent and gives a short order to his guards that he is not to be disturbed. Right then he does not care if these two men will think queer of the instruction, but then again they are unlikely to know about Loras.

“Stay!” he commands Grey Wind too, who looks at him with what feels like a knowing look. His wolf had remained quiet throughout the kiss and Robb takes comfort that he must truly approve of Loras.

When he walks back towards his bed he grins in approval when he finds the young knight led comfortably on his bed furs.

“I see the King in the North cares for some luxuries,” Loras jests, stroking his fingers through the soft pelts, knowing that northerners often mocked people from his part of the seven kingdoms for their extravagance over practicality.  

Robb chuckles at that. “Few. But some are worth caring for.” He lowers himself onto the bed with a wolf’s hunger now burning in his eyes. “I like to have some fine things in life …” he mutters as he takes Loras’ mouth anew, leaning over him as this time he lets his hands roam freely across the other’s torso.

Loras mewls in approval of those needy touches. He likes how Robb claims him even if this is new for him. “Am I one of those fine things?” he says huskily.

“Mmm, very much so,” Robb kisses Loras’s long sleek neck, biting softly at his flesh and sucking his mark into his skin. He had never done that with Jeyne. With her he had been gentle and gallant and careful. With Loras he feels a very different sort of hunger though. The type of thrill one feels when sparring in the training grounds. He feels that his ministrations are welcomed as Loras bucks his hips up at him and then pulls him back down hard onto him. “A fine treasure from Highgarden.” He raises himself up and looks down at Loras. “Gods, the finest!” he praises, allowing himself to truly see this man now, his hair fanning out over the pillows, those liquid eyes simmering with heat like molten gold.

Loras enjoys the flattering and he plucks at Robb’s leather tunic. “Have me then, Lord Commander Stark,” he says sultrily.

Robb thinks he might burst from the surge of arousal he feels. He has never felt anything like this and he cannot remove his tunic fast enough, grateful for Loras’ help as he unlaces his shirt expertly. “You are well practiced,” he smirks.

“I was Renly’s page and squire before I became his knight,” Loras pulls his shirt over his own head and pulls Robb back down again, kissing him fiercely. “But I’ve only been with Renly …” he quickly adds, not wanting Robb to think that he beds every lord he pledges himself to. Then again, that is exactly what he is doing right now.

Robb ceases his onslaught for a moment at that admission and then kisses Loras tenderly. “Then it is my honour that you want to lie with me,” he smiles, waiting for Loras to confirm that he is indeed ready to continue.

“Yes,” Loras smiles back and threads his legs around Robb’s calves, pressing their groins together. He does not want to think right now. He had done far too much thinking these last few months to the point of worrying that he would lose his mind. He wants his body to speak tonight.To sing as Robb kisses him again with so much passion. “I want you,” he repeats Robb’s confirmation, sliding his hand into his breeches.

“Oh Loras,” Robb groans, pushing his forehead against his shoulder as he enjoys all these new and exciting feelings. For him too these moments of joy have been far too few amidst the terrors of war and betrayal. To have this night, even if it is only this night, where he can forget all of that and just enjoy life!

It takes no effort to remove the last few items of clothes and Robb feels like his skin is on fire when they slide together again. “You are so beautiful,” he pants into Loras’ open mouth, relishing these sensations of hard flesh pressing against his own.

Loras digs his fingers hard into Robb’s hair now, his body screaming with want. He has no means to make this more comfortable, not having anticipated ending up in his liege lord’s bed tonight, but he is too aroused to call this off now in favour for an easier ride. He rolls them over to straddle the younger man so that he may at least set the pace. “My lord,” he groans as he spits in his hand.

Robb loses all grasp on reality when he is taken inside so expertly. He gasps and moans, marvelling in all of it, wanting to shout his pleasure and biting his tongue hard not to. Loras rides him with perfect precision as one would expect from a champion so skilled. He digs his fingers into his firm thighs, needing to grab hold, rocking with him, into him.

Loras sways, his blood boiling and his body tingling as they come together again and again, their combined lust growing into an explosion of desire.

When he is put on his back he relishes in the way Robb holds himself up over him, grabbing his neck to give him leverage in their frantic rutting. Heat engulfs both men as they kiss each other ferociously. The words they exchange make the tips of his ears burn bright and he gives his all to his surprise-lover, pushing him in deeper still, kneading his backside hard as they work each other into a frenzy.

When they finally collapse together, with Robb’s seed inside of him and his own across his stomach, they each struggle for breath.

“That … that was ...,” Robb mutters incoherently against Loras’ neck. Sweat rolls off his back as he presses more kisses against his lover’s damp skin.

“It was,” Loras agrees, not needing the words spoken out loud. His eyes are closed as he breathes in the other’s heated scent, feeling him pull back slowly.

Robb rolls himself onto his back and chuckles softly. “... unexpected,” he finishes the sentence not with the words that were originally on his tongue.

Loras chuckles too. “Yes, that as well.” He turns his head to look at the young man next to him, his hair messed, his pupils blown wide, his skin glowing. “But … nice?”

“Yes,” Robb grins so widely it makes his cheeks ache. “Very nice, Ser Loras.” He reach over and caresses his hair and his smooth cheek again in a loving gesture. “Thank you for bringing some enjoyment to this hellhole.”

Loras closes his eyes again, not wanting to think yet about the world that is outside. Eventually though, as the heat slowly dissipates from their bodies, he asks, “Do you think we did the right thing?”

Robb stares at the canvas above for a while. “I think that wrongs were done to us and the people we loved. And nothing we do will make that right.” He looks at Loras again and threads their fingers together. “But I think they would want us to live. And I mean truly _live_.”

“Yes,” Loras nods at that and curls himself into Robb’s arms, letting his fingers dance across his chest. “And the wolf and the rose will be a formidable force together.”

As if in response they hear a soft padding and then feel a heavy weight dip the bottom of the bed.

“I guess we have his approval at least,” Robb grins as Grey Wind settles himself comfortably at their feet. And he wonders only briefly at the rumours they may have started when the Knight of Flowers has not left his tent until the morrow.

FIN


End file.
